Freaks Like Us
by CrayonMentality
Summary: There's something wrong with Dudley,which really doesn't bother Harry until it starts affecting him. Harry's world as he knows it changes as he suffers from a secondary mutation- and with that comes a whole new year of problems. HIATUS.
1. Sulking Strangers and Seeing Red

Disclaimer: I neither own any of this and nor am I making a single penny from this. This is amateur and for my own, and hopefully others, amusement.

_AN: Gosh, another fic. This one made me write it. I'm going to update in a sort of rotation order. Tom Bombadil and the Fish is next on the list now.  
_

_This is a crossover with the x-men, it's set after Harry's fifth year. It's quite, bordering on very AU. Sirius didn't die, Harry never learnt his lesson about being rash as he found the prophecy at the end of the year without anyone dying. I've only seen the films for the x-men, so I'm sorry about anything I get wrong. There will more than likely be SLASH in this. I hope you like it!_

_And No, this is not Harry/Dudley. I thought I should make that clear, haha._

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Chapter One- Sulking Strangers and Seeing Red

"Remember the witch hunts? That Salem, haha. Okay, that's not really funny… –Harry"

* * *

There was great upset within the house at number 4, Privet Drive. This was partly due to the dark haired boy who mainly spent most of his days outside, seeking solace from the noisy house. He found peace and solitude in the front garden. His summer had been completely miserable so far, his family had seen to that. It wasn't merely their rudeness towards him, or how they so often completely ignore his existence that irked him- it was what their dark looks suggested that was so irritating. They conveyed clearly that they despised him for something he could do absolutely nothing about, and wouldn't want to do anything about even if could.

After a horrible school year it was all enough to cause his magic to manifest accidentally. His aunt Petunia had, at first managed to pass off the photos shaking on the wall as a lorry driving past. She had a harder time thinking of an explanation when the dinner on her plate, (and her husbands) exploded, splattering her clothing and the surrounding area.

However that wasn't the main reason for the current aura of upset and panic. It was his cousin, Dudley who was now the problem. Harry watched the scene before him, and couldn't help being fascinated by the role reversal.

_Something_ had happened to his cousin. At first, he had just been watching wrestling and imitating the moves. Which was perfectly fine, according to his Aunt and Uncle. It was a respectably masculine thing to do. Harry had noticed even then that his cousin hadn't clumsily copied the moves. The mimicry had been immaculate. Flawless. Which it shouldn't have been on such a bulky body. He had failed to notice the look of shock that had passed over Dudley's face, as he performed wrestling moves that ought to have taken years to master. He would have certainly felt very suspicious much earlier on if he had.

The proud glances had quickly changed to ones of concern and annoyance when Dudley had started copying over things. Like when Petunia wanted to watch the ballet on television. Nobody had expected Dudley to come into the living room with a series of twirls on the tips of his toes. Nor did they expect him to know how to carve complex and intricate statues out of ice without picking up a book or attending a class. But he did.

The last straw had almost been when Dudley reupholstered the living room sofa and chairs. The camels back had truly been broken by the time he punched a whole through the staircase after watching a Jackie Chan film.

"Petunia, enough is enough!" Vernon said in a low growl, his face red and he looked around as if suspecting the neighbours to be listening through the walls or peeking through the windows. "He's one of those bloody…y'know…"

Petunia had wrung her apron in her hands, clearly distressed at the whole situation.

"Oh don't be silly, Vernon. He's our son. He wouldn't be one of those…things," she didn't name them, but she even said "things" with great distaste, as if the word tasted bad upon her tongue.

"He needs to be helped. I won't have my son being treated like a, like a- freak!" Vernon spat the last word out quickly, and looked horrified when he realised what he had actually said it.

Petunia had gasped with shocked, and his cousin had sat miserably on the sofa with his head on his hands. Harry hovered in the doorway- unsure whether he should really stay but reluctant to leave.

He didn't know what was wrong with his cousin but his aunt and uncle were making even less sense. They couldn't really think _Dudley_ was a wizard, could they?

Harry suspected that this could all be an elaborate prank on his cousin's part, although it did seem a lot more effort than the fat oath would feasibly use. It was bizarre.

"Listen Petunia. You've seen it- on the news. In America-"

"Oh, America!" Petunia screeched hysterically, rounding on her husband, "They know everything, do they? These nut job doctors? This will probably go on his passport or something!"

"They have institutions for people like him," Vernon had continued unperturbed by his wife screaming at him like a Banshee. "We're getting him help."

And so they had packed their things to leave.

Harry didn't bother to pack anything. He felt slightly depressed by how everything had turned out. His school year had been awful, and now his cousin was acting oddly, and his aunt and uncle were practically just fine with this. So much for hating anyone remotely different, and ruining his childhood. The hypocrites. The Order said they would pick him up soon anyway, and he was just fine staying on his own until then. Besides that the protection would still work as long as he stayed in the house.

He glanced in the large mirror that his aunt had hung up in the hallway. She had seen on some poorly made, boring TV programme that it made the room seem larger and immediately bought the biggest one she could find. Was it just his imagination or did his eyes seem a little blue?

No, he was certain they had looked blue when he had seen them in his peripheral vision. However when he took his glasses off and had a closer look it revealed nothing new, they were just green with a few lighter flecks of yellow close to his pupils.

Strange.

The weird day was affecting even him. And it was about to get even stranger.

"What are you doing?" His aunt demanded as she came downstairs with her bags. "Go and get ready. Now!"

"What?" Harry asked, completely confused.

"What, you think you're getting out of this?" Petunia glared at him, "I know you had something to do with this mess and I will find out what. Hurry up!"

She then turned her back on him and marched out the door, muttering about her "poor duddykins".

Harry stood in the hallway for a few moments longer, not sure what to do. He really did need to stay here. He was kind of curious what was wrong with Dudley though…and, well the Order were watching him, right?

Surely they would know if he left and would…follow him. He hoped.

He rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a biro from the pot on the side and ripping one of his aunts little squares of paper she used for notes from the book. He rearranged his grip on the pen, which felt uncomfortable now he was so used to a quill and scrawled, "Something is wrong with Dudley and we're all going to America. North Salem. Remember the witch hunts? That Salem, haha. Okay, that's not really funny… –Harry"

Vernon stuck his round the kitchen door, "Hurry up boy, we're leaving." He said pointing with his thumb in the direction of the front of the house, as if Harry didn't know where it was.

Harry ran upstairs and grabbed his wand, stuffed some muggle clothes in his bag along with all his textbooks. He paused and stared at Hedwig, before opening her cadge.

"Okay, girl I need a favour," he said trying the note around her leg. "Take this to Ron please?"

He wondered if Ron would even be at his house or if he would be at Grimmauld place like he had been last year. "If you can't find him take it to Dumbledore. Bye Hedwig!" he opened the window and she nipped him affectionately on the ear before flying away.

The car horn hooted and he ran downstairs. As he climbed into the car Harry could have sworn he saw bubblegum pink hair out of the corner of his eye before it quickly disappeared. Hopefully the order knew he was leaving by now. If not, they were doing a pretty awful job of guarding him.

The car journey was horrible and it made him feel ill. The atmosphere of awkwardness, and hurt on all parts didn't help much. He wound down his window for some air, only to have his uncle bark at him to, "shut that bloody window". He tried to sleep through the rest of the trip.

But if he had thought the car had been bad the plane was even worse. It reminded him a little of the Quidditch World Cup, how people were jostling each other to get to their destination and the sheer amount of them that were there.

"Aunt Petunia!" Harry exclaimed loudly as a horrible thought washed over him. "I do have a passport, don't I?"

"Don't be so ridiculous, of course you do," she snapped and happily went back to completely ignoring him. Harry stared at her quickly disappearing back, confused as to when he had ever needed one. Aunt Petunia and his uncle must have put more planning into this than he'd expected. He ran after them, unwilling to get lost in this place.

It was a horrible blur after that, even more horrible that is, right up until he sat in his seat. He was feeling nervous. Don't be stupid, he tried telling himself, you've been on nothing more than a piece of wood in the air and you're scared now?

That's ridiculous. But no matter how many times he told himself that, it didn't get rid of or even lessen the sickened feeling in the pit of his stomach. The fluttering in his chest wasn't helping either.

He almost didn't notice Dudley, and his aunt and uncle walking to the front of the plane. Where were they doing?

He tried to see where they were going but gave up and sat back in his chair as people moved past him to sit down. He glanced at the couple sitting next to him. One was a woman who looked about middle-aged, with light brown and wavy hair, and some lines around her eyes and mouth. She seemed a little harassed. The other person was a boy, - no, a man who looked older than him but was probably still a teenager.

He sat down with a huff, and glanced around the plane. He had startling blue eyes, and dark hair- Harry couldn't help but stare. He almost reminded him of his godfather with his unusual colouring. When the man's gaze fell on him, Harry looked away trying not to blush. It didn't work as well as he'd have liked.

He pretended to fall asleep.

"Look, it's that weirdo who had the stick," the man hissed at the woman.

Oh god, Harry thought completed humiliated. He had hope nobody had noticed that.

His face felt like he had a fever or something, he must have been luminous red. Glowing. He was feeling more and more nervous all the time as well. He really did hate this aeroplane. And the stupid person in the blue uniform, who decided they desperately needed to search his pockets. Why did muggles put up with that treatment?

It was just rude. They had given it back to him in the end, with a very confused look but that wasn't the point. Any damage had already been done.

"Oh yeah," the woman replied to her companion, managing to sound wholly disinterested.

"Wasn't he with those two really fat men? And the anorexic?" He suddenly laughed. "Oh my god, do you think he killed them off?"

"Alex!" the woman exclaimed, to her male companion who must, Harry assumed be Alex.

"Would you shut up?"

"Oh, you can never take a joke." Alex grumbled sitting back in the chair. "He's asleep anyway."

"You shouldn't be so rude," the woman retorted although Harry heard her laugh a bit as well. He decided he disliked the pair of them. No, he hadn't kill off his relatives. They had abandoned him for better seats. No great surprise there.

"His clothes are a disgrace. Do you think he sold all his clothes for drug money?" Alex asked in a tone that instantly reminded him of Malfoy. Only less eloquent, if that were possible.

"Alex, for goodness sakes. You're going to wake him up if you don't shut up." The woman snapped.

She was starting to sound almost as fed up as Harry felt, and he thought the man would be quiet if he knew what was good for him. Depressingly, Harry suspected that he didn't.

"I was just saying. God."

There was a short pause. Far too short.

"Hey- he's kinda cute in an emo sort of way, don't you think?" he chirped up after a minute of tense silence.

"Alex-"

Harry jumped out of his seat feeling completed and totally embarrassed. He wobbled on his legs and had to grip the edge of his seat to stay upright, his stomach was churning dangerously.

He tried not to run to the toilet, and quickly shut the door when he got there. Breathing heavily he leant against the door. He shook slightly. What right did that- idiotic- boy have to talk about him like that?

He knew absolutely nothing about him!

Nothing.

He punched the door, feeling angry enough to lash out and not want to control it. He turned around to splash his face with water and stopped in shock.

His hair was red.

Not the bright colour of Ron's hair, it was darker than that but still distinctly and unmistakably red.

Shit.

He was so dead.

What on earth was going on with him?

Harry walked quickly back his seat, his head down and avoiding anyone's gaze. He expected cries of, "what happened to him?" but none came. He dropped down and leant back on the chair, keeping his expression stoic.

He noticed the rude man staring at him again.

"What?" he asked. He didn't care if he sounded harsh or not. This man was unbelievable.

The man stared a little more, before shaking his quickly, as if to get out of a daze.

"Nothing." He said shortly, a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. The woman coughed in an obviously fake way, and with a smile on her face.

Good, Harry thought. He spent the rest of the flight trying to work out what had happened. It must have been accidental magic, he decided, except he hadn't really felt it the way he usually did when that happened. How was he going to explain this to the Dursleys?

He could only hope that the whole experience with Dudley was leaving them a little more open minded.

* * *

_An: Harry is very emotional, isn't he?_

_I wonder why, haha. Dudley is a mutant, if you couldn't tell.  
_


	2. Hunting Mail, Consuming Chicken

Disclaimer: I neither own any of this and nor am I making a single penny from this. This is amateur and for my own, and hopefully others, amusement.

* * *

Chapter Two-Hunting Mail, Consuming Chicken**  
**

"Fawkes, who was really just a glorified, and over-sized chicken"

* * *

Harry gingerly climbed into the rented car, desperately ignoring the urge to run as far away from his relatives as possible. He knew they wouldn't catch him, but he couldn't risk The Order losing track of him. Don't let them bait you, he instructed himself firmly when Vernon slammed the car door shut before he could climb in after Dudley. It's not worth it, and it's definitely not worth the hysteria if your hair changes colour or anything like that, he thought chewing his knuckle distractedly.

He sat in the back of car, next to Dudley, tense and waiting for someone to start shouting at him. However the shouting he was waiting for never came, nor were there gasps of horror at his hair colour. Turning his head and looking out the window to alleviate his boredom, he caught sight of his reflection. Normal round glasses, thin face and- his hair, it had regressed to its normal dark, inky colour.

What the hell?

What was he? The human embodiment of a mood ring?

Well, that was just great. Simply peachy. If it was going to happen to someone, he guessed it would have to be him. Snape might call him arrogant, but really, it wasn't his fault that the world actually did seem to revolve around him. Haha. He really wished Ron or someone would reply to his owl, so he could write back and barrage them with questions.

His initial suspicion had been that he must be a metamorphamagus. Although the idea didn't really stand up under close scrutiny- metamorphamagus's were born and not made, weren't they?

He had never heard of it being any other way. And even if they weren't it was unlikely he was one since he remembered from his stay at Grimmauld Place, that it had always taken Tonks close concentration to morph even just her nose. He couldn't have done it accidentally. Which meant that it was either accidental magic or something to do with Dudley. Somehow Harry doubted accidental magic would start manifesting out of nowhere again when it hadn't happened so severely since he was twelve. So that left him with Dudley. How wonderful. He couldn't think of anyone other than his aunt and uncle who would be less co-operative.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, still staring out of the window.

It was always risky to ask questions when around the Dursleys. He had learnt from a young age not to, it only meant he would miss another meal or be locked in his cupboard even longer than usual. However he was fed up of being dragged around, without anyone bothering to tell him anything, and as far as he could tell, it didn't look like cupboards would be appearing in the near future. If they had travelled all the way to America, it was probably for a pretty important reason. Important enough for him to deserve answers, at least he reasoned.

"None of you business," Aunt Petunia predictably snapped at him, without even turning in her seat to look in his direction.

Harry sighed and slumped down his chair a little, he really shouldn't have been expecting anything else. The Dursleys had always looked at him as some sort of slug they had the misfortune of suffering because they couldn't find the salt right at that moment.

"We're going to a sort of school."

He turned in shock to ogle at his cousin. Had…what had just happened? Dudley…spoke to him…voluntarily?

Harry didn't blink but just stared at his cousin, his mind racing. The whole situation must have been affecting his cousin more than he had initially thought. Now, he looked at his cousin properly for the first time that summer, and yes, he did looked stressed. It was the slight but permanent downturn of the lips, and how his clothes looked just a bit too baggy for him as if he'd unexpectedly lost some weight recently. Harry blinked and looked away. Part of him was waiting, tense, for Dudley to hit him but the blow never came. Not that Harry wouldn't move out of the way, it was just a shocking revelation that Dudley could talk to him without feeling the need to inflict grievous bodily harm.

"It's called the Xavier Institute…or something. I dunno really," Dudley volunteered articulately.

"Oh, thanks," Harry offered. Clearly, the ease of expressing yourself well and sensibly ran in his family. He rubbed at his eyes irritably. They felt uncomfortably large for his face, as if he was tired and forcibly keeping them open wide to compensate.

"You look…" his cousin started to say something, but seemed to change his mind midway through the sentence. Shaking his head very slightly and looking away from Harry, out of the window.

"What? I look what?" Harry demanded, alarmed at Dudley's behaviour.

Oh Salazar's tits. What if his hair had changed colour again?

Dudley glanced at him, the slight widening of his eyes telling Harry that he hadn't expected such an aggressive reaction. It was sort of look that Ron would give Hermione when she reacted unexpectedly strongly to something, right before he turned around and said, "Bloody hell, keep your hair on". Then she would hit him. Harry turned purposefully in his seat, mimicking his cousins position and staring out the window. Trust Dudley to unintentionally remind him of his friends. The ones he couldn't see. Seemed years of practice must have created a kind of homing device for Harry's sore points.

"I just meant that you look a bit sick," Dudley offered at last, still not looking at him.

"Okay," Harry replied, not really sure what to say. The past few days had just been weird. Weird even for him, that is.

"Like, pale." Dudley supplied helpfully, "And…buggy eyed."

"Wow, thanks a lot." Harry said tiredly.

Then he jumped backwards, his chest momentarily clenching painfully before hammering quickly. His shoulders and the grip on his seatbelt, which he hadn't noticed at the time but was making his knuckles turn white, relaxed a little. His eyes widened for a second and quickly blinked with thick lashes trying to make sense of what he seeing. No, it didn't go away and there was most definitely a phoenix flying along his uncles' car.

He quickly dismissed the temptation to ask them to pull over. The drama of them screaming over Fawkes, who was really just a glorified, and over-sized chicken, (albeit quite noble, he's admit to that), would be too awkward. He settled for winding down his window, wincing at how cold the air was when it blew his hair everywhere, and quickly shooting his arm out and snatching the package from Fawkes claws.

When they were little, Dudley had always been shouted at if he had done this and Harry had relished in the opportunity to do something that was denied to his cousin. Years later though, now he really thought about it, he realised the sad fact was that the Dursley's probably just didn't care whether he lost an arm or not. Oh well. It had been satisfying at the time, and it meant he had no qualms about doing it now either.

The package contained two envelopes, made of the thick and slightly yellow parchment that wizards favoured. The first one he glanced at was for him, addressed as:

"Mr H.Potter

_Moving, America"_

The address was written in green ink, and the envelope shut with a purple wax seal, bearing the Hogwarts coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter "H". Harry was surprised at the formality, and quickly scanned the letter:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Potter, it appears you have left the country. As it is assumed you will be forfeiting your place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this annum, you will be personally contacted to avoid any unnecessary complications._

_Please remember that, Term begins on 1 September. An owl is expected if this conflicts with any vacations._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

Harry blinked. He supposed this was an automated letter, rather like the first one he received, informing of his place at Hogwarts. The formal, neutral tone was very odd. He was completely dumbfounded when he read the name atop the other envelope. It addressed simply to "Petunia," and although it written in the same green ink as his was, it had a personal feel to it.

"Um...Aunt Petunia?"

"Oh for goodness sakes, what?" She snapped at him, as she had done earlier. Harry had used his Question Rations for the day up.

He passed her the letter wordlessly, watching as her widened and she paled. She took the letter tentatively, her hands shaking slightly. Harry tried to ignore Dudley, who had apparently been watching him for a while. Had he seen Fawkes?

His aunt tore open the envelope, her expression grim as she read. Even though she didn't tell anyone what it said, Harry got the distinct impression that she wasn't pleased about it. Harry was. Definitely. When they stopped for food, a portion was bought back for him.

Mmm, chicken.

The cheapest option there, that was for certain, but still. It seemed Dumbledore was good for some things.

He was especially cheered by the little note that had been slipped into his envelope. It was short, to the point and read:

"Harry, the order is watching. We will be in contact soon."

* * *

AN: Okay, this chapter is really late. I apologise, I wrote it ages ago. Then my computer decided to eat it, and as I'm techonologically handicapped, I had no idea what to do. Even worse, all my chapter notes are gone as well. So...if this chapter seems, "bitsy" it's because I was just trying to remember everything that had been in it before. And I simply couldn't remember everything.

They'll meet the mutants in the next chapter, and the story will pick up. And Harry will find out what's wrong with him, this chapter was the build up. I really, really hope you enjoy this chapter anyway, and thanks so much to everyone who reviews!

About the automated letter, I thought it was amusing to put it in, most schools in my area send letters out when students dissapear on holiday, so I figured- why not Hogwarts as well?

And Petunia's letter was from Dumbledore, a warning if you like, to treat him well.

**Thanks so much: kizunakat, Anime Monster, Themious, BlackDove-alchemist, Freak In Corner, moonjess, vballmania23, Curalium Lacrimo, lilsteves, InuMewMew, Agua Mage, henriette, shadow lupus, October, Darklight, Eloisa Skywalker, x-Xanti-x, SaphirePhoenix, Falling Right Side-Up, Mish, (sorry the first chapter was confusing!), Cutsie-Love, dragonfire04, queen ares and SPEEDIE22.  
**

Any typos are there as I had to type this **entire** thing in _Notepad_, which was just...evil beyond words. I. Hate. My. Computer. So. Much. Hopefully compulsive checking has eliminated most of the mispellings, but I'll go back over it again soon.


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